Letting time pass would put him at a disadvantage and give his opponents the upper hand. That was Sebas’s predicament.
“Okay, my plan is to march in there now. I’m terribly sorry, but I don’t intend to change my mind. If you two would please drag these two to a guardhouse…”
“Please wait, Sebas! If it’s all right with you, I’d like to go along and teach these bastar—guys a lesson. Only if it’s all right with you, of course.”
“Me, too. As one who attends Princess Renner, it’s a matter of course for me to keep the peace. If any of this country’s people are suffering, I’ll rescue them with this sword.”
“…Unglaus may be able to handle it, but I think it might be a bit dangerous for you.”
“I know it’ll be dangerous.”
“Climb…I think he means you’ll be in the way. Well, from Sebas’s point of view, we might both be in the way, but…”
“No, no, I didn’t mean it like that. I’m just worried about you. I don’t want you to be misled into believing I would be able to protect you like I did before.”
“I understand.”
“You and your master may not get any credit for what we’re about to do, you know. There is most likely a more suitable place for you to risk your life.”
“Averting my eyes from injustice because it’s dangerous would make me a worthless man unfit to serve my master. As much as I can, I would like to reach out my hand and aid those who suffer the way she does.” The way she reached out to me…
At Climb’s steely resolution, Sebas and Brain looked at each other.
“…So you’ve made up your mind, then.”
Climb responded to Sebas with a single nod.
“I see. Then I will say no more. Both of you, please lend me your strength.”
Chapter 5 | Extinguished Embers, Flying Sparks
1
3 Late Fire Moon (September) 12:07 PM
“The place is behind this door. According to the assassins, there’s also an entrance in that building over there.” Standing in front of the brothel, near the same door Tsuare had been thrown out of, Sebas pointed to a structure a few doors down. Brain and Climb had been there when he’d acquired the information from the assassin, but they had never been to the brothel before, so they listened deferentially to his explanation.
“Yes, he did say that. This entrance could serve as an escape route, and they have at least two people guarding it. Maybe we should split into two teams. What if you handle the front on your own and Climb and I attack from over there?”
“I have nothing against that. What do you think, Climb?”
“No objections here, either. But Sir Unglaus, what will we do when we get inside? Search together?”
“I’d really like you to start calling me Brain. Sebas, I’d be happy if you’d do the same. As for your question…really, it’d be safer to go together, but we need to search the building as fast as we can while Sebas is keeping them occupied with the head-on attack. There might be secret passageways the assassins didn’t know about.” Then he softly added, “Sometimes there are hidden corridors that only the leaders know about,” as if he was remembering something.
“So you mean we should split up inside?”
“…If we’re going in there with an understanding of the danger, we should probably operate in a way that will give us the best results.”
Sebas and Climb nodded at Brain’s remark.
“Then since you’re stronger than me, Sir Un— Brain, do you mind if I ask that you do the search?”
“That sounds good. I’ll have you camp at the exit.”
Naturally, there was more danger awaiting the one who searched inside the building because of the higher chance he would encounter an enemy. Since Brain’s strength far surpassed Climb’s, it made sense for him to do it.
“Then we’re all set for our final preparations, right?” Sebas asked.
They had discussed a rough strategy on the way over, but there had been certain things they couldn’t decide without seeing the place. Now that they’d decided, there were no objections.
Sebas took a step forward toward the thick metal door. Climb would never be able to open it, but before Sebas, it looked as flimsy as a piece of paper.
Only a single man was going to assault the front gate, the most highly guarded area, but there was no need to worry—the one attacking was said by Brain Unglaus to be stronger than him and Gazef Stronoff put together. The only word to describe him was exceptional.
“Okay, then. Let’s go. For that entrance, according to what the man said, the sign that you’re friendly is four knocks in a row. Not that I think you’ve forgotten it but just in case.”
“Thank you.” He hadn’t forgotten, but Climb thanked Sebas.
“Then I’ll be taking prisoners to the extent possible, but if I meet resistance, I’m planning to kill without mercy. Are there any problems with that?”
Sebas was smiling kindly, but Climb’s and Brain’s spines both froze.
It was an utterly normal approach to the situation, not wrong in any way. They both thought they’d do the same under similar circumstances. What sent the fear creeping up their backs was the sense that Sebas had a dual personality.
An extremely tender gentleman and a hard-boiled warrior… Extremes of both generosity and heartlessness coexisted within him.
If they let him go in without comment, it was possible he’d kill every last person in the place.
Climb nervously addressed him. “We should try to keep needless loss of life to a minimum. We’re outnumbered, so some casualties can’t be helped, but if there is anyone who seems like one of the Eight Fingers executives, could you please do everything you can to restrain them? If we can catch and interrogate them, we can reduce the harm they can cause in the future.”
“I’m no fan of murder. It’s not as if I came here to kill everyone, so never you fear.”
His gentle smile was a relief to Climb. “Then please excuse me. Shall we get going?”
“All right then. Let’s annihilate them all at once here to buy some time.”
If they crushed this brothel, the thugs would stop interfering with Sebas, at least temporarily. If they were lucky enough to get ahold of top-secret documents, the Eight Fingers might put so much effort into dealing with that, they could very well forget about Tsuare completely.
Worst case, Sebas would buy some time and create a chance for her to escape. Or he might find some better way to handle things.
“There was that kind merchant who reached out to me in E-Rantel. I wonder if I could enlist his help…” Even if Tsuare recovered mentally, she would still probably be happier if she had someone she could trust.
Sebas faced the thick iron door once more. Remembering how Tsuare had been tossed out here before, he touched the massive door of iron-plated wood. A glance was enough to tell that it wouldn’t break down easily without some tools.
“I wonder if Climb will be all right.” He didn’t feel like he needed to worry about Brain Unglaus. Even if Brain fought Succuronte, Sebas felt he had a good chance of winning. But not Climb. Climb had next to none.
He was the one who offered his cooperation in storming the brothel, so he was surely ready for whatever would happen. Still, Sebas thought that losing his good, young life would be a waste.
“I’d like that sort of boy to live a long life…” He voiced a thought appropriate to one who had lived a long time himself. Of course, Sebas had been created elderly, so if one counted the time between his creation and the present, he would actually be younger than Climb.
“I suppose it would be much better for me to be the one to dispose of Succuronte. I hope they don’t run into him.” Sebas prayed to the Forty-One Supreme Beings for Climb’s safety.
If Succuronte was the strongest power in this facility, there was a good chance he would attack Sebas, but if he was acting as someone’s bodyguard, he might focus on protecting his charge while trying to escape.
Feeling a bit anxious, Sebas grabbed the knob and turned.
It moved a little, and then his hand stopped. Of course the door of an establishment like this would be locked.
“I’m not very good at picking locks… No way around it. I’ll have to pick it my way,” Sebas murmured with chagrin and lowered his hips. He drew his right hand back, formed a striking edge with it, and held his left hand forward. It was a collected posture with a core as solid as the trunk of a thousand-year cedar.
“Hup!”
What happened next seemed impossible.
His arm pierced through the iron door—through a hinge, at that. No, that still wasn’t all. It thrust farther and farther in, scraping along the wood and metal.
The hinge gave a scream and bid farewell to the wall.
Sebas casually opened the door that had lost all means of resistance.
“What! …The hell?!” Inside was a hallway, and at the end of it, a large bearded man stood outside a half-open door, stupid, wide-eyed, and agape.
“It was rusty, so I took the liberty of using a bit of force to open it. I recommend oiling your hinges,” Sebas addressed the man as he closed the door. Well, it would probably be more accurate to say he stood it against the frame.
As the man stood there completely stunned, Sebas moved unreservedly into the building.
“Hey, what’s going on?”
“What was that noise?”
From behind the man came other male voices.
But the one looking straight at Sebas didn’t respond and addressed the terrifying visitor instead. “Uh…w-welcome?” The utterly bewildered man watched in a daze as Sebas approached him. As an employee in this sort of place, he was probably used to violence. Still, what he just witnessed was beyond the common sense he’d lived with his whole life.
Ignoring his allies’ questions, he smiled in an effort to appeal to Sebas. His survival instincts seemed to convince him that flattery would get him furthest. Or perhaps he was desperately trying to assure himself that Sebas was a butler in the service of one of their customers.
The bearded man, cheeks twitching as he forced a grin, was not a pretty sight.
Sebas smiled. It was a kind, gentle expression, but his eyes contained not the slightest hint of goodwill. Their glint was more like the mysterious, bewitching sparkle of a sword.
“Could you move, please?”
Ba-boom. Or maybe, guh-bang. A stomach-turning sound.
The robust, fully armed, grown man probably weighed a good 180 pounds. He flew to the side, spinning comically through the air at a speed human eyes could barely register. Then his body smashed into the wall with an impressive watery splat.
The building shook as if it had been pounded by a gigantic fist.
“…Shoot. If I had killed him a bit farther in, he would have made a good barricade. Well, it seems there are others in the back. I’ll just be more careful from here on out.”
Telling himself he’d better hold back, Sebas stepped around the corpse and continued down the hall.
He opened the door wide, entered the room, and scanned it with elegance. He acted less like he was invading enemy territory and more like he was taking a stroll through an empty house.
Inside were two men.
They were staring speechlessly at the crimson blossom staining the side of the hallway behind him.
It took but a moment for the reek of organs, their contents, and blood to mix with the room’s smell of cheap booze one would never find in Nazarick and create a nauseatingly unpleasant aroma.
Sebas consolidated the information he’d gathered from Tsuare and the assassins and tried to recall the layout of the building. Tsuare’s memories were in pieces, and she didn’t remember much, but she did say the real brothel was underground. The assassins had never been below, so their information wouldn’t help him past this point.
He looked at the floor, but he couldn’t find the stairs leading down. Perhaps they were ingeniously hidden?
If he couldn’t find them himself, he simply needed to ask someone who knew.
“Excuse me. I have a question…”
“Eegh!” One of the men he’d addressed shrieked hoarsely, suggesting the option to fight was already out of his mind. That put Sebas at ease. It seemed like whenever he remembered Tsuare he couldn’t hold himself back and ended up doling out instant death.
If they didn’t want to fight, breaking both their legs would be plenty.
The trembling men pressed themselves against the wall, trying to get even a little farther away from Sebas. Eyeing them emotionlessly, Sebas smiled with just his lips.
“Eegh!”
Their terror intensified. The smell of ammonia filled the room.
I guess I scared them a little too much. Sebas frowned.
One of the men’s eyes rolled, and he crumpled to the ground. The extreme stress had caused him to lose consciousness. The other man looked enviously down at him.
Sebas sighed. “I mentioned I had a question… Actually, I have some business down below. Could you tell me how to get there?”
“…Th-that’s…”
Sebas saw the fear in the man’s eyes as he hesitated to betray the organization. The assassins had been the same way. It seemed they were afraid of being ejected from the organization. Recalling the behavior of the first man he’d met, the runaway he’d given money, Sebas figured that must mean death.
As the man faltered (Should he say it? Should he not?), Sebas ended his hesitation with a single remark. “There are two mouths here—I don’t necessarily have to hear it from yours.”
The man’s forehead oozed sweat, and he shuddered. “I-i-i-it’s over there! There’s a trapdoor!”
“Over there?” Now that he knew, he saw scuffs on the floor in the area. “Aha. I thank you. And now your role is done.” Sebas smiled, and the man intuited the meaning behind his words. He turned pale and shivered.
Still, he harbored a tiny flame of hope and put it into words. “P-please…don’t k-kill me!”
“That won’t do.”
The room froze at the immediate reply. The man’s eyes bulged—the human expression of denial in the face of something unbelievable.
“But I talked, didn’t I? C’mon, I’ll do anything—just spare me!”
“That’s true, but…” Sebas let out a breath that was part sigh and shook his head. “…No.”
“You…gotta be kidding me!”
“You can believe I’m joking if you like, but there is only one outcome here.”
“…Oh gods…”
Sebas remembered how Tsuare had been when he found her, and his eyes narrowed slightly.
There was no way someone who had contributed to something so horrible had the right to make entreaties to the gods. And to Sebas, the Forty-One Supreme Beings were the gods. He felt like it was an insult to them.
“You reap what you sow.” With those words of steel, which cut off the discussion, the man sensed his impending death.
Run? Fight? The moment the choice was thrust upon him, the man unhesitatingly elected to flee.
He knew what would happen if he fought Sebas. If he ran, he had at least a sliver of a possibility of surviving. He was right to act as he did with those calculations, because as a result, his life span lasted a few seconds—no, a few fractions of a second—longer.
He darted for the door, but Sebas caught up to him in an instant and lightly spun him around. A gust of wind rushed around the man’s head, and his body collapsed like a rag doll. A sphere whapped against the wall, leaving a bloody splotch, and bounced to the floor.
A beat later, the man’s headless neck began flooding the ground with blood.
It was the technique of a god. The roundhouse aimed specifically at the man’s head and its unbelievable speed and power were awe-inspiring enough on their own, but the most horrifying part was that the shoe on the foot he’d kicked with remained spotless.
Heels clicking, he approached th
e man who had fainted and brought a foot down on him. Together with a sound like a dead tree snapping, his body convulsed. After several spasms, it stopped moving completely.
“If you think back on your actions up until now, it was only logical that this would happen, don’t you think? But take peace of mind from the fact that you’ve compensated with your life.”
Sebas went to collect the corpses. The bodies were mutilated in ways too horrible to behold, so by lining them up by the stairs, he could scare anyone trying to escape this way and make them think twice. That was the deterrent Sebas had thought up for the case where he wasn’t able to destroy the entrance.
After placing the corpses, Sebas stomped the trapdoor.
With the sound of metal fittings breaking, the floor opened up. The broken door made an unexpected racket bouncing and sliding down the sturdily built stairs.
“I see… If I destroy these stairs, then it will be impossible for anyone to escape this way.”
It wasn’t a very big room.
The sparsely furnished space contained a wardrobe and a bed, nothing more.
The bed wasn’t a humble affair of straw with a sheet over it but a cotton-stuffed mattress. The frame was well-made, like something a noble might use. But, favoring function over form, it had no decorative elements whatsoever.
On top of it sat a naked man.
He was likely long past middle age. His indolent physique was perhaps the aftermath of an insatiable appetite. Although his face might have been nearly average, it lost a dramatic number of points for the sagging excess flesh on top of it. Anyone who saw him would describe him as a piglike man. Pigs are by nature clever, charming animals who love beauty. But the image of the pig in this case was the basis of the word’s more insulting meaning—dim-witted, greedy, and unsanitary besides.
His name was Staffan Heivish.
He pounded his raised fist down toward the mattress.
The sound of flesh on flesh followed.
An expression of delight appeared on Staffan’s sagging face. Along with the sensation of the body warping under his hand, he felt something pleasurable creep up his spine. He shivered.
The Men of the Kingdom Part I Page 20